


sparklers

by itisjosh



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Developing Friendships, Fireworks, First Meetings, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Loneliness, Party, Seasonal Affective Disorder, Summer, They do now, i mean do sparklers fuckin count as fireworks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-19 06:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29622060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itisjosh/pseuds/itisjosh
Summary: Summer sucks, Tommy decides as he sits on the steps of a house he's never been to before prior to three hours ago.--"I'm Tubbo. There's just, uh..there's nowhere else for me to run off to, you know? This really is just the only hiding spot this place has to offer."(or, parties suck, but they suck less when you meet someone you can connect to)
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 8
Kudos: 134





	sparklers

Summer sucks, Tommy decides as he sits on the steps of a house he's never been to before prior to three hours ago. He hangs his head, feeling his chest sort of hurt, feeling his eyes close all on their own. His head spins and his ears ring, and everything about this night really has just gone to shit, he thinks. Warm air blows over him, ruffling his air, breezing through his shirt. It's not as hot as it was a couple of hours back, but it's still way too warm for Tommy's liking. He sighs, looking back up, supporting his head once more. The entire area around him is just sort of blue, like someone put a blue overlay over his eyes, over the world. Over life. Tommy's not really sure if that's normal or not, but he can't find it in himself to care, not really. 

He looks down at the pavement below him, he stares at the sparklers in his hands. They're not lit, he just grabbed them on the way out of the house because he felt like holding something, he felt awkward leaving without taking something with him. Without pretending like he was going to do something important for once in his life. Tommy sighs, tilting his head up and back, looking towards the sky. It's mostly clear, very few clouds scattered throughout the sky. Everything about tonight is just sort of melancholy, just sort of sad. He's not all that sure why, but it is, and there's not much he can do about that. Tommy taps his foot against the ground, feeling his leg bounce as he does so. He's not nervous, not really, but there's not really any other reason that he'd be bouncing his leg, so he must be. Tommy sighs again, biting down on his lip to distract himself from his thoughts. He can hear people laughing and talking from inside the house, and he wonders if it would be worth it to go back inside. 

Tommy doesn't feel like going back inside, though, so he doesn't bother to get up. He thinks that maybe he'd like to go back inside and talk to the rest of the people in there, but the majority of him really doesn't want to do that. He's not sure why - he loves talking to people, he loves being around people. It's nice to talk to people, it's nice to not be alone, but right now, he doesn't think he could manage to go into that house and hold a conversation. He's tired. He's really tired. He's a bit too tired, a bit too lonely, a bit too anxious, a bit too hurt. A bit too upset. Tommy doesn't even know _why_ , but he _is_ , and he doesn't think he can stop being any of those things, even though he would prefer to be anything other than those things. Tommy hates being scared or hurt or nervous or whatever, he hates it. It makes him feel like shit, and he hates feeling like shit, and it's even worse when there's no actual cause for him feeling like shit. 

It's probably just the weather, is what he's always been told. It's probably just summer, it's probably just the warmth. It's probably just him being overdramatic, it's probably just him being moody or grumpy or any of those other words that have been used to describe him around this time of year. Tommy sighs, throwing his head back with a groan. He's pissed off, too. Doesn't help that no one that he knows is even at this stupid fucking party, that's annoying. That's real fucking annoying, and Tommy wants to leave, but he doesn't even have anywhere else to go other than home, and he doesn't _want_ to go home. He said that he'd be staying out late tonight, he said that he didn't plan on coming back for a while. He didn't want to come back for a while, he really didn't want to go back home early tonight. It's not even like his parents are _bad_ or anything, they just don't _understand_ , and they say shit that makes him feel bad, and though it's not all the time, it's often enough to make him want to leave. They don't do it on _purpose_ , Tommy knows that. It just..happens. He wishes that it didn't happen as much, 'cause it fucking sucks. 

Tommy sighs, staring down at the pavement, wondering if he can burn a hole through it, one that he can disappear through. The idea of that is nice, he thinks. It would be nice to be able to disappear, it would be nice to not have to be here right now. Or ever, he thinks a few seconds later. Tommy blinks, looking back at the house. The people inside are laughing a lot louder, and he feels the ground underneath of him vibrate a bit when they turn the radios up even more. Tommy taps his fingers against the ground, watching as an ant skitters along the pavement in front of him. For a brief second, he wonders if it would be worth it to move his foot a few inches and step on the tiny creature, but he opts against it. There's not really much of a reason in him killing an ant, it wouldn't make much sense. Plus, he doesn't have the energy to move his foot, even if it's only a few inches forwards. Tommy doesn't have the energy for a lot of things, he's found out recently. He's been a lot more tired recently, and he doesn't like it. He used to be full of energy, always bouncing off of the walls and laughing all the time, he used to be full of light and life. And now, he's just..not. He's just tired. He's just sad. 

He sits up a little straighter at the sound of someone else coming to sit next to him. Tommy tries his best to hide his sigh and frown, but he thinks that he fails miserably. He looks over at the other person who's now sat next to him, raising an eyebrow at him. He's got brown hair, blue eyes, he's wearing a green button-up that's way too big for him. He looks tired, too. Tommy wonders if he hates the summer as much as he does. The other boy doesn't say anything, he just sits there, leaning back, his back pressed up against the wall of the house. Tommy looks away, returning to staring down at the pavement. He watches as another ant wanders across said pavement, disappearing through a crack in the cement. There's probably an anthill around the area, somewhere. He doesn't care enough to look for it. 

"Too loud in there?" The boy suddenly asks. Tommy looks back up at him, offering a sort-of half shrug, feeling like his entire body is made out of stone. It's hard to move, it's difficult to even control his facial expressions. Tommy wonders if that's just because of the heat, if it's just because of the warm air. It probably is. "Same here. Um, I'm Tubbo. You probably came out here trying to get away from everyone else, so I'm sorry that I interrupted that. There's just, uh..there's nowhere else for me to run off to, you know? This really is just the only hiding spot this place has to offer." 

"'s fine," Tommy shrugs, not finding the energy in him to care that much. "I'm Tommy. What're your thoughts about summer, Tubbo?" There's a silence, a long pause. A quiet that seems to stretch on forever. Tommy wonders if he's somehow managed to fuck this conversation up already, which he thinks would be a fucking record. He didn't even say twenty words, and he's already fucked up. Admittedly, he's not surprised. That seems to be one of his skills nowadays - fucking things up. He's good at that. He's really, really good at that. 

"It's okay," Tubbo shrugs back at him. Two words shouldn't have taken five minutes to get out, but whatever. Not important, Tommy decides. "Sorry, I'm just.." he sighs, tilting his head back. "It's really loud, you know? I had to..I don't know, get out of that place, I guess. I'm still recovering from that, I'm sorry. It was way too loud in there, and I can't actually handle loud things all that well," Tubbo murmurs, his voice soft and low. "Why, what's up with you and summer? Is it just..a bad time for you, or what?" 

Tommy can sort of understand that, he can understand things being too loud. He doesn't have to get away from places that are loud, but he can understand. He understands that things can be too much, that things can be overwhelming and awful and just _too fucking much_. He gets that. He understands that a lot more than he thinks that he would like to. "Yeah, I guess," he admits. "I'm not really a big fan of the summertime. Makes me all.." he waves a hand, as if that's an accurate description of what he feels. "Sad 'nd shit, I guess. Makes me feel bad. It never used to, but now it does, and I'm not all that sure why. Maybe it's just.." Tommy sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. "I dunno. I'm not about to go 'nd dump all my feelings 'nd shit onto a stranger." Tubbo laughs, he tilts his head back and laughs. 

"Yeah, I get that," Tubbo smiles. "Sorry. I didn't mean to.." he sighs, smiling a little more. "Didn't mean to laugh. It's not because it was funny, it's just 'cause I understand that," he stands up, moving to stand directly in front of Tommy. "Hey, uh, you've got sparklers, yeah?" Tubbo holds out his hand, his other hand firmly tucked away in one of his pockets. "I've got a lighter," he beams, pulling out the aforementioned lighter with the hand that he had in his pocket a second ago. "Wanna light 'em, Tommy?" 

Tommy smiles, and he's not really sure why he does, but he can't stop himself. 

"Yeah, fuck it," he shrugs, taking Tubbo's hand, pushing himself off of the steps. He holds out one of his sparklers, smiling a bit when Tubbo takes it. The lighter he has is one of those old flip ones, gold-plated and engraved with initials that Tommy can't quite make out. He thinks that one of the letters might be a _J_ , but he's not entirely sure. He probably shouldn't pry. "You steal that or what, Tubbo?" He asks, quirking up an eyebrow. "You don't seem like the kind of person to smoke, or some shit." Tubbo grins, giving him a half shrug as he starts to light the first sparkler. 

"We've just met, Tommy. I could do hard drugs on the side, and you'd never know," Tubbo grins at him, his eyes sparkling, crinkling at the sides. Tommy laughs, feeling his heart rise a little. He feels less like shit, though he still, without a singular doubt, feels like shit. "Or drink hard liquor. Who knows, Tommy? Not me, that's for sure," Tubbo beams at him so brightly that it could probably rival the sun, quite honestly. "Let's light these bitches up, yeah?" 

"You swear way too fucking much," Tommy grins back at him, nudging the other boy with his elbow. "What the fuck is fucking with that, you fucker?" Tubbo laughs, easing the sparkler out of Tommy's hand. He flips open the lighter, struggling to get it to actually catch at first. Tommy watches as sparks burst from the sparklers, popping and crackling. "That's way too bright," Tommy decides, taking the sparkler from Tubbo's hand. "Really contrasts against all the, you know," he waves his other hand around, motioning to the deep blue that seems to overlay everything else. He wonders if it's only him who sees that or not, before remembering that being sad doesn't actually put a goddamn blue filter over everything. "Blue." 

Tubbo makes a noise, one that sounds vaguely of agreement, nodding once or twice as he lights his own sparkler. "I think it's nice," he admits, leaning back on his heels with a smile, holding his sparkler up. "You know, I used to write my name in the air with these things," he laughs, ducking his head. "That's how my dad liked to teach me how to write letters and stuff like that. It was fun. I kind of miss those days, actually. I miss them a lot, not gonna lie." Tommy nods, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a few seconds, not entirely sure what to say. 

"I guess we had different parents, huh," he grins, feeling his eyes crinkle at the sides. "Mine made me sit down at the table for three minute intervals, 'cause I couldn't sit still as a kid. Still can't," he sighs, feeling his chest sink a little. Being unable to sit still is one of his biggest downfalls, he thinks. Everyone tells him that it's easy to do, that all he has to do is _focus_ , but it's way fucking harder than everyone makes it out to be. "I mean, I'm not about to spill out my entire fuckin' life story on you, though. Don't get too invested." Tubbo holds his hands up, beaming. 

"Don't worry, I'm not going to tell you all about my life, either. We're just two guys, sticking together at a party," he grins. "Instead of, you know, actually being inside of said party. I quite honestly don't know how I got here," Tubbo admits, waving his sparkler in the air. "I think I was invited? Fuck if I know," he laughs. "I didn't know anyone well enough to talk with them, and I'm not gonna start talking to people who I've never met before. That's just sort of awkward, since everyone in there seems to already know each other. It'd just be weird, y'know?"

Tommy nods, because he does know. He definitely knows. "Yeah," he agrees. "I get that. I mean, we sort of know each other now, so that's something, yeah?" He offers, pointing his sparkler at Tubbo with a smile. "You should give me your phone number or whatever, so I can spam call you at two in the morning and complain to you about all of my issues. But," Tommy grins, still feeling tired. It's difficult to keep up his smile when he thinks it'd be way easier to just collapse onto the ground and stop doing anything at all. "If you do the same, I will immediately block you. How's that sound, bitch boy?" Tubbo laughs, hitting Tubbo's sparkler with his own.

"Bitch boy? That's just mean, now isn't it?" He grins, taking a few steps back as Tommy retaliates, raising his sparkler again. "Oh, shit, it's.." Tubbo sighs, his arms dropping to the side, his sparkler nearly falling out of his hand. "It's past ten, isn't it? I've got to be home in like, thirty minutes. I'm sorry, here's-"

"I'll walk you," Tommy interrupts. "We can talk 'nd shit on the way back to your place, yeah? Plus, I'll get your address out of it, so instead of just spam calling you, I can spam break into your window." 

Tubbo grins at him, his eyes lighting up. "Yeah. That sounds like an excellent plan, Tommy. I'll put rat traps and stuff out on the floors."

"I'm not a _rat_ , bitch," Tommy grins back at him, following as Tubbo starts to walk. He looks over his shoulder, breathing out for a second. "That's just mean." 

He tosses his sparkler back, watching as it hits the pavement. It'll burn out eventually, he thinks. Tubbo does the same, and then they're off walking again. Tubbo makes grand hand gestures, waving his arms around as he speaks, throwing his head back when he laughs. He's funny, too. He cracks jokes and laughs at Tommy's shitty ones, and while Tommy still feels pretty awful, he doesn't feel as bad as he did a few minutes back.

Summer sucks, Tommy thinks, but maybe this one won't suck as badly.


End file.
